


jerseys

by anonymousbuffalo



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Ahomine, Epiphanies, It is now, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Swearing, Teikou Era, aokise - Freeform, aomine is an idiot, is a a jersey kink a thing, jersey!kink, jerseys, touou!kise, vorpal swords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 08:30:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15139193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousbuffalo/pseuds/anonymousbuffalo
Summary: In which Aomine has a thing for Kise in his jerseys.





	jerseys

**Author's Note:**

> Oh God, this was supposed to be under a thousand words

Aomine didn’t plan for this. He didn’t plan on accidentally hitting Kise with his ball, and didn’t plan on him joining the Teiko basketball team. He also most definitely did not plan for how good Kise looked in the Teiko jersey.

The model could pull of any style in any color, but at that time Aomine could only think that he looked the best in Teiko’s baby blues and whites. They haven’t quite filled out their bodies yet, the baby fat clinging persistently to their cheeks, but Kise’s lanky form nonetheless managed to look better than anyone in the jersey. To Aomine, the uniform was nothing more than what he had to wear in order to play on court, and while he didn’t look bad in it, he doesn’t look like Kise. No one did.

Akashi liked to wear the jersey with the jacket positioned precariously on his shoulders. Aomine didn’t know how he kept it there even when the wind was blowing so strongly, but he chalked it up to Akashi’s iron will and his penchant for dramatic flair. He was the only one who even came close to looking as good as Kise did, but still, there was a difference. He remembered that once, Akashi had told the team that the Kanji characters for Teiko- _帝光_ \- meant _Emperor’s light_ in Chinese. As Aomine looked at Kise laughing with the others at the other end of the court now, he realised that Kise truly embodied that meaning.

No one else’s hair was the bright, eye-catching yellow that Kise’s was, and thus no one else’s hair complemented the color scheme of Teiko’s jersey more than he did. Kise’s skin was fair too, and had a healthy sheen to it that brought life to the dull whites of the jersey. Aomine was fascinated by the way the jersey was plastered to Kise’s skin when he ran up and down the court, and was even more entranced by the way the sweat rolled down the blond’s skin and darkened his jersey.

Surely he wasn’t the only one who noticed such details?

He mentioned this in passing to Satsuki once, just to know that he wasn’t alone in this situation. But all he got from her was a look that was much too knowing, and a quiet, “Dai-chan, you’re an idiot.” Aomine wasn’t sure of how to respond to that, because he didn’t yet recognise what she knew and what he didn’t, so he let the matter drop, and turned to Tetsu instead.

“Say, don’t you think Kise fits the Teiko jersey really well?” Aomine asked when they were walking back together after practice. Kuroko turned and fixed him with an impassive look, before replying, “I think he looks normal. Kise-kun is an unnaturally attractive man, so its no surprise that he does not look bad in the jersey.”

“But don’t you think he just looks so much better than the rest of us? The jersey really complements him so well- ”

He broke off when Tetsu stopped walking. His partner sighed, almost in resignation. Aomine stopped abruptly too, and was about to start defending himself when Tetsu said, “Aomine-kun, do you have feelings for Kise-kun?”

Well. He wasn’t expecting that. Aomine felt heat creeping up his neck, and rushed to answer him, “No! No, no, no. No. What makes you say that? No.”

Instead of answering his question, Tetsu looked to the sky as if to ask for divine guidance, before looking back at Aomine, and replying, “Aomine-kun, you’re an idiot.” And the one-sided discussion on Kise and the Teiko jersey ended right there.

-

When he learned that Kise was going to Kaijo, he finally came to the realisation that after those years of bickering and persistent one-on-ones, Kise was leaving his side to be part of another team, another life. He hasn’t felt anything other than apathy for a while now, and now the loss struck him like a bullet. No more of Kise egging him on to score more than 45 points in a game, no more of going to the nearest convenience store together after school, no more of his fingers being tangled in blond hair he shoved Kise forward, and no more of Kise in the Teiko uniform.

When his brain processed that last thought, his first feeling was of relief, because that meant no more confusing images of a lean, blond-haired form wearing the same colors as him in his head as he jerked off. _No_ , Aomine thought after every single time it occurred, _he did not just jerk off to Kise in that damned uniform. He did not jerk off while thinking of Kise at all._

His second feeling was of a frantic urgency to know how the Kaijo jersey looked like. So, he grabbed his phone, saw the dark blues and blacks of the Kaijo jersey, with _海常_ emblazoned over the front, and suddenly couldn’t wait till Touou was playing against Kaijo.

When the highly anticipated match finally happened, Aomine’s first, unfiltered thought upon seeing Kise in Kaijo’s colors was that _well, his jerk off material just had a new update._ His second, more coherent thought, was that Kise had grown. So had Aomine, of course, but he didn’t think that his physical growth was anywhere near Kise’s level of development. They haven’t seen each other in too long, and Aomine was unprepared for the way the blond was now taller, his shoulders broader, and his arms getting the definition that sent jolts to Aomine’s nether regions. Puberty had blessed Kise by ridding him of his baby fats, and now the planes of Kise’s _very_ attractive face was unobscured and on full display. He was radiant and fresh, with a spring in his step as he approached the court. As Aomine watched, somewhere in him felt disappointment in not being able to see the blue version, but he admitted that the Kise standing a court away from him was pretty good too. He vaguely heard Wakamatsu shout at him to stop checking out the other team, and only did so in order to avoid the embarrassment of getting a hard-on.

As the game progressed, and as Aomine was constantly pitted against Kise, he noticed the way the latter’s silver earring dangled against his ear, and the way his features tightened in concentration. As Kise fought to overcome his admiration for Aomine, his eyes narrowed, his stance changed, and he became a different Kise- a Kise that emulated Aomine and _fuck_ if it wasn’t turning Aomine on in the middle of the damn match. His hormones were put aside, though, as challenging this new version of Kise took front and center in his brain. Throughout the remainder of the match, he had little time to admire the way the black trimmings of the jersey emphasised the liquid gold and determination in Kise’s eyes, or the way the shirt fluttered around his body when he got past Aomine’s defence once and again.

As Kise used his moves against him again and again, Aomine felt like Kise was being rebirthed as a young god, and it killed Aomine to know that Kise could only do so by pulling Aomine down from the pedestal in his heart. It wasn’t as if this turn of events was unexpected, but Aomine hadn’t expected it to hurt as much as it did, even when in his heart, he was chanting _do it, Kise, beat me in the way I know you can._

When Kise made the decision to pass to his captain, Aomine knew that the match was over. He would never have made that pass, and while he could have stopped himself from pushing the ball out of Kise’s grasp, going easy on the blond was never an option for them both. The buzzer went off, and it was Touou’s victory.

He could hear the crowd cheering, but all he saw was Kise’s jersey-clad form on the ground, trembling and immobile, and Aomine felt a foreign feeling in his chest. He wouldn’t go over and help him up- that wasn’t what either of them wanted. _There is nothing for a winner to say to a loser_ , Aomine said, because he wouldn’t pity Kise, wouldn’t rub salt in his wounds. He did, however, wait till Kaijo’s captain helped Kise up before leaving.

As Satsuki silently caught up to him, she seemed to hesitate before saying, “He was almost there, wasn’t he?”

“Almost is never enough, Satsuki, you should know this,” Aomine’s reply was swift and no less cutting, betraying the turmoil in his heart.

“You’re still in his heart, Dai-chan, even if he stops admiring you,” Satsuki’s words had taken on a gentler tone as she changed the topic, as if Aomine was the one who had lost the match. He didn’t let her see the effect his words had on him, nor did he reply, but Satsuki didn’t need him to. She knew that the words had brought her Dai-chan some measure of relief.

In the end, the image of Kise in his Kaijo jersey brought more pain than pleasure to Aomine, and so he tried his very best to never think of that again.

-

It was only after the Winter Cup was over, and he was summoned to practice as part of Vorpal Swords, did he start thinking about Kise in any form of basketball jerseys again.

(Not that he didn’t think of Kise at all- he always did, even when he didn’t know why his thoughts always seem to stray towards the blond.)

When the red-and-white of the of the Vorpal Swords jersey was revealed, Aomine couldn’t help but ask when was the soonest they could put the jersey on.

“Why so eager, Ahomine? It’s not like you can look good in anything,” Kagami couldn’t help but jest.

Aomine would reply that he would look better than Kagami even when wearing a trash bag, but he was too busy ignoring the collective stares of everyone around him. Akashi regarded him coolly, as if he knew the true reason of Aomine’s asking (which he definitely did), but didn’t say anything except to answer that it would be ready only on the day of the match. _Great_.

On the day itself, when he finally saw Kise in the jersey, Aomine contemplated jumping off a building. The only thing that kept him from doing so was that he didn’t want to lose a single moment of being able to see Kise in that glorious, _glorious_ jersey.

It was unfair, Aomine decided, for Kise to look like that. With his hair cut shorter, and that stupid silver earring, and the red of the jersey bringing out the black that lined his beautiful, wondrous eyes. It was unfair for the rest of the human population when Kise could look like _the fucking sun_ and no one else could. It was unfair that only he was this affected by Kise, since he was the only one this _whipped_ for him, and-

Oh.

 _Fuck_.

This was a bad time to have an epiphany, and he didn’t realise that he had cursed out loud, until Kise turned to him in confusion and reassured him _that they got this, they could beat those assholes._

Aomine wanted to say that no, he _don’t_ got this, that he wasn’t worried about the Jabberwockers so much so as he was worried about the fact that he has had the _biggest fucking crush_ on Kise Ryouta since their Teiko days.

And as he struggled to find words to reply said crush, Tetsu, _bless his soul_ , had picked up on the fact that Aomine was now becoming less of an oblivious idiot, and decided to bail Aomine out by pulling Kise away from Aomine and asking the former to focus on himself. Aomine blinked, then looked around him at all the knowing looks he was receiving, and cursed again.

Then the match started, and all that mattered was the ball in front of him. Until, of course, Akashi asked them to double-team Silver, and Aomine felt like they were reliving their Teiko days, when he didn’t have to look around to know that Kise was always there by his side, supporting and challenging him. Even back then, Aomine had thought that, while him and Tetsu were a pretty great combination, him and Kise had the potential to become truly unstoppable. His prediction was coming true now, as Kise matched him pace for pace, never getting in his way, and always covering his blind spots. He could hear the cheers of the crowd affirming their flawless teamwork, and this had him thinking that if they could work this well on-court, surely they could work as a couple off-court too? Aomine shook his head to clear his heads of these thoughts- this wasn’t the time and place to be thinking of this, and if he wanted to get into the Zone, he couldn’t afford these contemplations.

But as he watched Kise get into the Zone, watched Kise’s eyes glow, watched Kise become the most powerful player on court, Aomine felt nothing but pride and _love_ for the literal golden boy. Kise had done it, had grown to become a player who shone so bright on court that everyone else was overshadowed. It couldn’t last forever, however, as the toll of his brilliance hurt Kise more than anyone else.

Aomine felt an ache in his chest as he watched Kise’s legs give out, wanting nothing more than to carry him up and tell him that _idiot, you worked too hard_ and the feeling was so, so familiar, and then Aomine realised that these were the words he wanted to tell Kise when Touou beat Kaijo during the Inter-High competition.

But Akashi beat him there, and he watched as their captain hoisted Kise up, and half-carried him over to the benches. When Akashi returned, he looked all of his players in the eyes, and Aomine felt the mood on the court shift. He glanced at Kise’s hunched form on the bench, and Aomine wanted so badly to punch someone in the face. _He had done it once,_ as he realised with a breathless laugh that he had punched Haizaki for Kise too, even when his brain had denied that he had done it for anything other than wanting to see Seirin play against Kise. As he watched Kise’s jersey rise and fall, soaked through with sweat, Aomine knew that for Kise, he wouldn’t lose to the Jabberwocks, and it seemed that everyone else on the team was like-minded. As he turned towards his opponents, he bared his teeth into a smile, and played as if his life depended on it.

When the final buzzer went off, Aomine was running over to Kise before the Jabberwocks even realised they lost, and proceeded to kneel in front of Kise.

“We won, Kise,” Aomine wasn’t quite sure why he was whispering, but he knew that he wanted nothing more than to see the joy overcome the pain in Kise’s eyes.

“We…won, Aominecchi. We won!” _Ah, there it is._ Aomine could see nothing else but Kise, as tears, happy ones, spilled out of golden eyes. Their hands clutched each other’s, their bodies trembling violently in triumph and joy, and then suddenly his hands were tangled in the 7 of Kise’s jersey, and his lips were on his, to the roar of the crowd, and the _Jesus fuck, finally_ of everyone who has had the misfortune of knowing both of them for the past few years.

Aomine couldn’t quite bring himself to care about any of them, not when Kise’s hands were cradling his face, and especially not when Kise was laughing into his lips with unbridled happiness.

-

It wasn’t till two dates later when they finally talked about the Touou vs Kaijo Inter-High match. They both understood why Aomine didn’t pick him up, though Ryouta had smiled wryly and said that it wouldn’t have hurt if he did. Aomine then fiercely promised that from now on, he would be there to pick Ryouta up if he ever lost again, purposely emphasizing the _if_.

“Do you ever wonder whether if things would have turned out differently if I had attended Touou instead of Kaijo?” Ryouta asked as they walked back home from one of his shoots.

“Yeah, they definitely would have. For example, Akashi would have murdered us the moment he knew,” Aomine’s voice was deadpan.

Ryouta laughed, knowing it was true, “But it would’ve been great, I think. Imagine if Seirin had to face the both of us together. They wouldn’t have won then. Not to mention, we would probably have gotten together faster.”

Aomine murmured his agreement, but Ryouta’s words sparked something in him. He imagined Ryouta studying at Touou, Ryouta playing for Touou, and then, _Ryouta wearing Touou’s jersey_.

No matter how he tried, he couldn’t get that thought out of his head (as with most things Ryouta related). Despite the fact that Aomine was pretty vocal about the things he would like to do to Ryouta on a daily basis, he couldn’t quite bring himself to mention that he had a thing for the blond in his jerseys, much less ask Ryouta to wear Touou’s jersey for him.

So, he devised a plan.

The next time they went on a date, Aomine suggested that they go on over to his place, so that he could soundly trash Ryouta in whatever video game he was currently playing. Ryouta, easily baited by the sound of a challenge, successfully fell into Aomine’s trap.

When they were setting up the game, Aomine ditched the controls in favour of getting the both of them some ice-cream, since _it’s so hot even my mouth is sweating damnit_. Before Ryouta could retort that the human mouth doesn’t actually _have_ sweat glands, Aomine was off, and soon returned with a pint of chocolate ice-cream.

 _Now for the last phase._ Aomine was so close to success, and in one swift manoeuvre, unceremoniously dumped the whole pint on Ryouta’s _very white_ shirt.

After Aomine managed to calm the shrieking, and tried his very best to remain an apologetic face throughout the ordeal, he shoved Ryouta into the toilet, and told him roughly that he would get a new shirt for him. Aomine had expected some form of verbal retaliation when he passed Ryouta his Touou jersey, and had even prepared an explanation that gave away nothing of his true intentions. His efforts went to waste, however, when Ryouta accepted the jersey without question.

As Aomine fiddled with the game controls and waited for Ryouta to come out, he idly wondered if Ryouta had seen through his plans. _Was I being too obvious?_ He contemplated, until Ryouta stepped out of the toilet, and all thoughts flew out of his head, leaving only _holy shit_.

The black of the jersey contrasted perfectly against the fairness of Ryouta’s skin, the red accents emphasizing the muscles in his arms. His blond hair, still shorter than it was before, combined with the silver hoop earring that was the bane of Aomine’s sanity, clashed vibrantly with the red and black of the jersey. Ryouta’s eyes, already brilliant before, positively glittered now. Aomine wasn’t prepared for the thrill that thrummed in his belly when he took in the 5- _his number_ \- across Ryouta’s front.

Oh, and Ryouta wasn’t wearing pants. The jersey was long enough to just barely hide the swell of his ass, and Aomine gave his thanks to whatever God that existed in this world for Ryouta’s existence in his life.

“Daiki?” The alluring note in his voiced proved that Ryouta was fully aware of his effect on Aomine, and that he had indeed seen through Aomine’s plan. As Aomine struggled to find words, Ryouta, the actual, literal _devil_ , straddled the tanned boy’s lap, and murmured coyly in his ear, “I’ve noticed your thing since Teiko, Daiki. I’m trained to notice other people’s attention on me. Did you think I wouldn’t notice the way you looked at me?”

-

Aomine was an idiot, but if this was the result of his idiocy, he would gladly play the part of an idiot through and through.

**Author's Note:**

> yes the title is extremely creative, i know. thank you for reading this self-indulgent ramble!


End file.
